Bloody Black Ribbon
by cheshire-bird
Summary: Sequel to „You're gonna go far, kid!" After Vimes returns to the future, he soon has to deal with some mysterious murders and someone he least expected to see again. But that's only the beginning of Vimes' problems... and yes, this is slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Hello again =)

I've promised a sequel and here it is. I hope you will like it...

For this story you need to know the prequel, or at least it'll make it much easier to understand this story's background if you do.

As usual this is slash and if that's not your kind of thing... well you wouldn't know the prequel anyway, so why bother reading this?

And of course once again a big „thank you" to oceanlover4evr for being the beta-reader for this story. Because I'm still no native speaker. ;-)

* * *

Thunder rolled over Ankh Morpork, greatest city of the discworld.

In the distance, bolts of lightning split the sky apart. Rain fell in streams down the streets, cascading from the rooftops like transparent curtains.

It was a dark and stormy night, from the likes that kept everyone at home, even the ones who were supposed to be out on the streets at night doing their jobs. No thieves or assassins were out on the streets or the roofs on a night like this.  
As the storm approached, the lightning strikes illuminated the dark streets. One particularly impressive bolt of lightning dominated the sky over the Unseen University for a second, before everything went dark again.  
Inside the library the Librarian was sitting on top of a large bookshelf, many feet above ground. It wasn't that he was afraid of the storm– or in fact anything else– but lately there had been too much trouble around the old, mighty books. The Librarian didn't want to take any risks.  
No one else was around the library, though, during the night; the Librarian wouldn't allow it. So he was quiet surprised when he saw a figure striding through the passages between the shelves. It was a dark figure, slim with an elegant attitude, and nearly invisible, but the Librarian knew what to look for.  
Curious, the ape made his way down to confront the intruder. He landed right in front of the stranger, who merely stopped but showed no sign of surprise.  
"Ook?" the Librarian asked accusingly.  
The other gave him a doubtful look, but still he answered, "I was just leaving."  
"Ook ook?"  
"Through the door."  
The librarian didn't like smart answers, especially not when his books were concerned.

„Ook?"

"Is it important who I am? As I said, I was just leaving."  
The stranger walked around the Librarian and continued onwards. Surprised and a bit angry the ape followed him. He wanted to at least make sure the man would leave immediately. Normally, the Librarian would have already used violence to force the intruder to answer, but the thought of hitting this man didn't even manage to cross his mind. The stranger had the air of a predator to him, like he was something really, really dangerous, despite looking like a youngster.  
They had almost reached the door, when the stranger suddenly stopped and turned towards the Librarian.  
"Well, maybe you could help me," he said hesitantly. "I am searching for a man. He must be nearly forty years old, brown hair, with a scar around his right eye."  
The Librarian just shrugged. There were over a million people in this city, and hundreds of brown haired men with scars.  
"He is a watchmen," the stranger continued.

„Ook..."

"With a stony expression."  
"Ook! Ook ook ook."  
"Commander of the City Watch, you say? And his name is Vimes?"

„Ook."

The stranger lifted his head to nod, and for the first time the librarian could see his face. The man was quite young, nearly still a child, with dark hair that hung onto his forehead.  
"Thank you," he said quietly, and then he turned to leave.  
"Ook?" the Librarian asked, puzzled.  
The other stopped once again and replied, "No, I don't think so. I have never seen you before."  
Before the Librarian could say anything else, the stranger had disappeared through the large wooden door into the stormy night.

* * *

**Three days earlier**

Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs patrolled through the streets of Ankh Morpork. It was their usual walk to get a beer or pastry from the various shopkeepers and tavern owners. No one actually considered them to go on patrol to look out for crime. Commander Vimes knew that, of course, and had given them a route that would provide a sufficient number of people who could be blackmailed for food and allowed them to return to the watch-house as soon as possible, but also offered the two very few chances to run into a real crime.  
Maybe it was that knowledge that made Colon too confused to run away as a man came running towards him, calling out something the sergeant couldn't quite comprehend nor understand.  
He stood still, as if rooted to the ground, until the man reached him. Corporal Nobbs, on the other hand, had shown certain tendencies to vanish as soon as he noticed that a problem was running his way, but Colon's stillness had him wondering which was the right thing to do.  
Both policemen needed a moment to understand what the agitated man tried to tell them. All they could make out were broken fragments of his sentences. "...my daughter... something... happened..."  
Since they could not get the man to form clear sentences they decided to follow him.  
The man led them to a small bakery only a few meters away. The shop's door was opened wide and some people were already sneaking out of the shop, their pockets filled to the rim with pastry, but no one seemed to care about that. Voices were to be heard from upstairs, the loudest belonged to a crying woman.  
They hurriedly made their way through the shop and up stairs that were leading them into the living area of the small house. The noises were getting louder and louder as they stepped into the flat. By now it was clearly noticeable where they came from. At the end of a small corridor there was an open door which led into a small bedroom.  
A girl lay on the bed. Completely still, her skin had turned utterly white and all she was wearing was a long nightgown. All those details and the fact that she lay on top of the blankets, allowed only one conclusion. The girl was dead.  
A crying woman, obviously the mother, sat at the edge of the bed, holding one of the girl's hands in her own.  
Fred and Nobby hesitantly entered the room. As they approached the bed they could see two tiny holes in the girl's neck where a few drops of blood had escaped from the wounds. In a city like this, it was obvious what had caused such injuries. Those were the bite marks of a vampire.

* * *

A few minutes later, the two watchmen and the baker sat together in the tiny living room, which was also the apartment's kitchen and most likely the main room as well. The atmosphere was deadly serious and tense, like the air was before a thunderstorm started. This wasn't good and they all knew it. It wasn't your run-of-the-mill usual kind of murder, it was one of those cases that just got bigger the more you got to know about them.  
"Can you tell me what happened?" Colon asked seriously, trying to cover his anxiety up with professionalism.  
The baker gave him a doubtful look, as if he was considering whether or not to answer. "How should I know what has happened?! I already told you that I found her like this!" he finally said, agitated.  
"You may want to calm down, sir. There is no reason to be so agitated," Corporal Nobbs interjected, eying the man with a suspicious glance.  
"Of course there is! My daughter is dead!" the baker exclaimed. Restlessly, he stood up and started pacing through the room although he had to turn quite often since the room didn't offer that much space to walk.  
This silenced the two policemen for a while. The man certainly had a point there.  
"You don't have a clue who might be responsible for this, do you?" Colon inquired carefully, as he finally couldn't stand the uncomfortable silence anymore. The baker's face hardened and even Nobby and Colon could see that the sergeant had hit a nerve.  
"Actually I do have a clue," the man said, his eyes glowing with the fire of rage. "A few month ago a young man started working for me. I knew he was a vampire, but he was the only one who applied for the job, so I couldn't complain about it. That bloodsucking bastard must have used the chance he was offered! Gods, I knew that something was wrong with him!"  
The baker hadn't stopped pacing while he was talking, which had caused the two watchmen to follow him with their eyes. Hands shook as he mumbled something which sounded like "My little girl". Suddenly he hit the wall with his right hand and growled through his clenched teeth, "Damn it, I should have known!"

Colon and Nobby both made a quick movements backwards upon the sudden outburst.  
"Could you tell us his name?" Colon inquired carefully, feeling even more uncomfortable than before. He knew they should possibly offer comfort or something, but he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound completely pathetic.  
"It's Jonathan... forgot about the rest... but he lives in the Shades at Mrs. Cake's guesthouse," the baker took a breather and afterward continued, "I was worried this morning because he hadn't shown up for work. Thought something might have happened to him. Then I heard my wife scream and..." there, he stopped. It wasn't necessary to say more, as both watchmen could imagine what he had found.  
"All right, we will go back to the watch house now. Someone will return soon and save the evidence," Colon said hurriedly, sensing that he had somehow gotten himself into something he would rather not be a part of. He wanted to talk to someone who knew what to do in such a situation. This was surely going to become one of those political cases, and Colon knew he wasn't good at them, so he would have to find someone who was.

* * *

Back on the streets, Nobby turned towards Colon and asked, "What are we going to do now?"  
For a few moments they walked on in silence while Fred tried to think of an answer. He was still very sure he had to find someone who was better suited for political cases. However, he also knew that he couldn't return to the watch-house with nothing but a vague description of a murder and the assumption that something was wrong. They would have to do a bit more research or people back at the watch house would laugh at him!  
"I guess we'll have to visit the vampire," Colon reluctantly said, shuddering all the while. It was a most unsettling thought for him.  
"Really?" Nobby asked, confused.  
"Well, what else are we supposed to do? If the Commander asks us about this, we can hardly tell him that we couldn't investigate because the suspect is a vampire. He'd go postal!"  
They considered this for a moment and came to an unanimous conclusion.  
"Mrs. Cake's guesthouse, right?" Nobby asked.  
Colon only nodded.

* * *

_It would be great if you'd write a review, so that I know what you think, or whether I shall continue this story._


	2. Chapter 2

**Present**

It was a slow day without much trouble, just the way Sergeant Colon liked it. He was sitting behind one of the writing desks, like he always did when he wasn't out on the streets with Nobby. Everything was quiet inside the watch house, which –come to think of it– was quiet unusual. All the policemen were either out on the streets or about to end or begin their shifts.  
It was still early in the morning, when the night-shift was ending but the day-shift hadn't yet begun. Fred Colon had been in early this morning. There was nowhere else he wanted to be, so he thought he could as well start his shift earlier than usual.  
He had already been working for over an hour– at least he had been on duty for over an hour– when the door opened and a young man entered. The stranger had black hair that hung unto his forehead and he wore plain black clothes.  
Sergeant Colon looked up and watched as the stranger made his way over to the desk.  
"Good morning," Fred said, a bit unsure what to expect.  
The stranger stopped a few feet away from the table and looked at the policeman. Colon swallowed hard. The cool gaze made him somehow nervous, though he didn't know why. The boy seemed strangely familiar, but the sergeant couldn't remember ever having met this guy before.  
"Good morning... Sergeant Colon," the stranger answered.  
He had seemed a bit hesitant to use Fred's name. The policeman felt even more nervous now.  
"Sorry, have we met?" he asked, slowly.  
"No, we haven't, but I have heard of you," the boy answered plainly.  
Colon didn't know what to say, and for a moment everything was silent.  
Then the boy broke the silence. "I'm looking for Sam Vimes, Commander of the Watch. I need to talk to him."  
"Oh... I don't think that's possible..." Colon said in a mix of surprise and nervousness.  
"It is important," the boy stated simply.  
"Okay... I will see what I can do." Normally Colon wouldn't have given in that easily, but this boy somehow gave him the creeps. Rising, he made his way up the stairs to the Commanders office. He knocked cautiously, but instead of Vimes' voice, it was the voice of Captain Carrot that answered back.  
"Come in," he called out, and Colon did as he was told. But before he did so, he turned around once more to check whether the boy was still there.  
He found the stranger to be still standing in the same spot, as if he hadn't moved at all.

* * *

Minutes later he emerged again, followed by Carrot, who had a plainly curious expression on his face.  
Smiling, the captain walked over to where the boy stood and extended a hand towards the boy.  
"Hello, I'm Captain Carrot. What can I do for you?"  
The boy ignored the extended hand and answered, "I need to talk to Commander Vimes. It is important." Carrot hesitated for a second, before he stated, "Right, but I can assure you, if you want to report any crime it is completely sufficient if you tell me about it."  
"This isn't about a crime."  
"In that case I would like to know who you are and what you want from the Commander."  
"You may call me Traveler Johnson, but what I have to talk to the Commander about is my business alone."

* * *

Later Fred Colon wasn't sure what exactly had happened. All he knew was that the boy, had– after a rather awkward conversation with Captain Carrot– walked out of the watch house with a detailed description of where to find the commander.  
"The Ramkins Manor?" the boy had asked, like he had already been there before.  
"Yes, Commander Vimes has married Lady Sybil a few years ago," Carrot had answered.  
Traveler hadn't seemed that pleased to hear that, but had said nothing.  
And now, that the strange boy had left, Colon and Carrot shared a puzzled glance. For a while neither of them said anything. Something strange had just happened and they both lacked a good explanation. How had this guy managed to get them to tell him so much, without even knowing who he was and what his intentions were? It was creepy, extremely so!  
It was Carrot who finally broke the silence, "Is it just me or did that boy seem somehow familiar?"

* * *

**Three days earlier**

It had taken Fred and Nobby about half an hour to get to Mrs. Cake's guesthouse. They had walked in uncomfortable silence, always keeping a close eye on their surrounding. Certainly it was no good idea to walk into the Shades wearing a guard uniform, but they had both found themselves lacking a sufficient alternative. One either was wearing his uniform or was sleeping, that was the way the old watch had worked (and even then, sometimes they slept in uniform). They had yet to manage to come to terms with certain new ideas like civilian clothes.  
Mrs. Cake was well known all over Ankh Morpork, but that didn't mean that many people had met her. It was about the same as it was with Vetinari. There were about a million people in the city, but most of them had never met the Patrician in person, although he most likely knew them all.  
Colon had expected many things, but certainly not an elderly woman, which obviously was short-sighted. She was quite nice, although seeming very strict. It was only when they tried to question her about her tenants, that they understood why this lady had a certain reputation.  
"He's not here," she had answered, before Colon was even able to open his mouth.  
"Excuse me?" he asked completely surprised and a bit nervous as well.  
"I said he's not here," she repeated and searched the watchman's face for a sign of understanding, but found none. Mrs. Cake seemed to realize that she needed to explain a few things, or this would not work. "Look, I know what you are going to say even before you know it yourself, but you still have to voice your questions, otherwise I get headaches."  
Colon blinked a few times, before he pulled himself together. Stranger things had happened to him, although not many. "Oh... okay?"  
Mrs. Cake gave him a doubtful look, as she said, "So, as I said, he isn't here."  
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Colon remembered to ask the question which had just been answered. "We are searching for a... man named Jonathan."  
The elderly woman nodded approvingly in his direction, like he was a child who had just done something right.

"Yesterday, soon after sunset," she continued. "I was a bit surprised, because he usually sleeps before he goes to work. His shift starts shortly after midnight, I think."  
It took Colon a while to figure out what was the right question for this answer. As he finally found one he had to hide a proud smile. "When did you last see him?"  
"No, sorry. I don't know much about the private life of my tenants and I don't tend to ask, since most of them prefer privacy."  
Finding the question to this answer was even more complicated. Colon nearly suspected she created long, complicated answers on purpose. Normally he didn't ask that many question, at least not when the person he was talking to didn't even seem to be involved in the case at hand. Personally Fred preferred Detritus' way of questioning suspects, which was made of asking, or rather stating the same words ("Ye guilty! Don't deny! Ye guilty!") over and over again, until the suspect gave up and confessed. It had never really worked for Colon, though.  
"You don't happen to know where he might be now?" obviously the right question, after all.  
"I'm not your servant," Mrs. Cake said disapprovingly. It seemed like Fred's next question was going to annoy her, maybe they should leave. The watchmen seemed to have outlasted their welcome. "Still, I'll try to let you know if he returns."  
"Thank you very much for your help. Could you do us a favor and let us know when this Jonathan returns?"

* * *

Commander Sir Samuel Vimes sat in his office. As much as he tried to avoid being locked up in it, there still were some duties that could not be fulfilled while running trough the streets, and much less so when yelling orders at random people during the change of shifts. They had gotten several new recruits during the last few weeks and it needed quite a lot of patience to organize things when more than one of them were around.  
With a sigh, Vimes walked towards the window and looked through it into the city. He had not the amazing view down on the city as one had from the Oblong Office, but Vimes wouldn't want that anyway. Having a view that made you feel like you were amongst the people, was much better than looking down on them.  
It was raining again, not that Vimes cared. On the other hand he certainly had noticed, that the clouds above the city were getting darker than usual. Of course, he didn't know which color the clouds were supposed to have during this time of the year. He certainly hadn't kept an eye on the sky above Ankh Morpork and he certainly hadn't waited for the rain to start, whenever the clouds got darker. Vimes liked to pretend that he hadn't been anxious whenever a thunderstorm claimed the skies above the city. He liked to pretend that he hadn't been wishing to see that face again...  
Except that he had.  
It was strange, because Vimes wasn't sad or anything. Everything was working just fine. There were no big problems in the city, except for the usual, and at the moment no one tried to force him to assimilate any new species into the watch. Even the League of Temperance kept quiet for the time being. At home the Commander spent every evening reading a story to his son. While the boy was still too young to understand what the story about, but one couldn't start soon enough to spent leisure hours with their offspring.

So in other words, Vimes' life was running smooth. Maybe too smooth for his own good... not even Vetinari caused any problems. The first meeting, after Vimes had returned from the past, had been awkward, but that was mostly the commander's doing. He had been incredibly nervous and had expected the worst, not knowing what to expect or say. Vetinari on the other hand had acted completely normal, giving no indication, that he remembered any of the events. He certainly had shown no tendencies to throw Vimes into any scorpion pits. That seemed to be a good sign...  
A knock from the door caught Vimes' attention and pulled him out of his memory.  
"Come in, Fred," he answered, watching a confused Sergeant Colon enter the room. Obviously the man still hadn't figured out, that certain details gave him away. But there was something else, for Vimes could see the worried expression on Colon's face. He had known the elderly sergeant long enough to read him like an open book and this page promised bad news. So things weren't running as smooth as Vimes had thought, after all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

To Muhkuh: hey, thanks! oh and interesting name by the way =)


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:  
**Hey, thanks for all the nice reviews. It's really encouraging! =)

* * *

**Two days previous**

Come to think of it, Vimes shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this city wasn't known for mysteriously solving it's own problems. And on the rare occasion it did, things tended to be even more messed up afterward. Certainly, it was the case this time.  
It had still been early in the morning when Vimes had started his shift. He had actually been able to sleep in his own bed tonight, in the company of his wife, but that was another chapter... As a result, he had been in a rather good mood as he had entered the watch-house this morning. However, that changed soon enough.  
Half an hour after sunrise a Lance-Constable ran into the watch-house at the Pseudopolis Yard, delivering a message from Rimward Gate. Just as the young man had caught enough breath to speak, another Lance-Constable burst into the scene. The newcomer was as breathless and agitated as the other had been.  
Several watchmen and a lot of time were needed to organize the situation. It was Captain Carrot who finally entered Vimes' office to tell him what the messengers had tried to report.  
"They found the vampire Colon and Nobby were searching for. His name was Jonathan, if I'm not mistaken," the young man said, after respectfully saluting and positioning himself in front of Vimes' desk.  
"Was? So he's dead?" the Commander asked.  
"Yes," Carrot seemed very uncomfortable in his own skin as he spoke the word. He was obviously sensing trouble lying ahead.  
"Well, which of the two messengers found him?"  
"They both found him," Carrot explained carefully, keeping an eye on Vimes' reaction.  
"What?!" Vimes exclaimed. "That's impossible! The whole city lies between those gates. How were they both able to see him?" It was impossible to do so, Vimes knew. Not even a vampire could be in two places at the same time, least of all a dead one.  
"Apparently the watchmen at Rimward Gate found his body..." an uncomfortable break followed and tense silence filled the room, until Carrot continued, "...and those at the Hubward Gate found his head."  
"What?!" Come to think of it, the solution was quite obvious. After all there were only a few ways to kill a vampire permanently, but usually a few meters were more than enough distance. Bringing the whole city between the body and the head... there had to be symbolism! Vimes disliked those kind of cruelties, only a very messed up mind would come up with such an idea.  
This case was getting out of hand. Vimes had to do something about it, quickly. He wanted to do the investigations himself, but he was very busy already and right now there were not enough reasons he could use to explain why he took over the investigations. Maybe Angua could assist Fred and Nobby, or rather they could assist her. She certainly had the best contacts to the network of the undead people in Ankh-Morpork. And he would send Cheery to the crime scenes... both of them.  
This had to end, before it became a problem for the whole city. A girl was killed by a vampire, a vampire was killed by someone else, and THAT sounded like the perfect start for a war between species.

* * *

**Present**

So far, the day hadn't been an easy one for Vimes. He hadn't slept since yesterday, having been too busy running through the city on the hunt for various criminals. And then there was the whole vampire topic. So all in all, things were a big mess again.  
Barely an hour ago he had returned home and because it was a warm day, had found himself a place in the garden to sit and enjoy the short break he was given.  
Shortly after that he must have fallen asleep, though he couldn't remember it. The commander only noticed it, as he woke up and saw Willikins standing next to him. Obviously the butler had made an attempt to wake him.

"What is it, Willikins?" Vimes mumbled.  
"Sir, there's a young man at the door. He wishes to speak to you," Willikins said, not paying attention to Vimes' obvious unwillingness.  
Expecting it to be Captain Carrot, Vimes stood up and made his way to the hall. The butler followed him, but made no attempt to keep up with the commander's fast pace.  
In the hall Vimes was greeted by an unexpected sight. A highly unexpected sight, indeed.  
It wasn't Captain Carrot, who stood in the middle of the large room, neither was it any other member of the Watch.  
The person was slim and tall, with dark hair and pale skin, and he wore dark clothes, like the assassins did. Vimes recognized the boy instantly. It took him several minutes to voice any of his thoughts, though.  
Willikins was still standing slightly behind the commander. He hadn't done anything, but observed the scene. While Vimes tried to collect his thoughts, the boy somehow managed to become less visible with every passing minute.  
Damn, everything had been going so very well! Vimes had managed to make himself believe that his trip to the past was little more than a strange dream. Of course he knew that it had been quite real, but apparently the whole episode had had next to no consequences on his real life. Well, at least up until now. After realizing that Vetinari apparently didn't remember what had happened or didn't recognize Vimes to be John Keel or simply didn't cared, the commander had learned to act like nothing had happened. It had been hard at first, but he had managed! Now things had changed in a matter of seconds.  
Vimes voiced the first thing that came to mind, after an intense moment of difficulty. "How?!"  
Both, Willikins and the boy –who had suddenly become clearly visible again– gave him a confused look. Vimes chose to ignore it.  
Sam took a deep breath, to calm himself down, then said, "I mean, what are you doing here?!"  
Vetinari, the young assassin, hesitated. "I doubt it would be wise to discuss these matters in public," the boy answered with an obvious glance at Willikins.

"Right," Vimes said with a sigh. "You're right."  
Damn Vetinari, for somehow always seeming in control! And damn himself, for wishing he could hug the boy he had missed so much, without knowing he had until the assassin had turned up again.  
"Follow me," he nearly ordered. The last thing he needed now was to show the emotionally chaotic state he currently found himself in. He was married, for the gods' sake!  
Vimes led the boy into the garden, which he thought to be the safest place at the moment. The open area provided nearly no hiding place for eavesdroppers.  
Willikins hadn't followed them. Apparently the butler had noticed that his presence was neither required nor approved. Hopefully Willikins thought this to be about some crime Vimes or the watch in general was investigating, the commander thought. What else would he think, though? How was the butler to guess who the boy was and more importantly what had happened between Vimes and said assassin in the past?  
After Vimes had checked that they actually were alone he turned towards the boy. Once again he found it kind of hard to speak, but forced himself to do so anyway. Even during his trip into the past, Vimes had felt awkward about the effect the assassin's presence had on him, but now he couldn't allow himself to be affected by it. This was his original time line, where his wife and his child were within reach! Even though young Sam was sleeping upstairs and Sybil was visiting some friends, most likely to talk about dragons...  
"Now tell me, what are you doing here? How did you even get here?!" Anger was much better than confusion, Vimes had decided.

"You may be surprised, but it was considerably easy. I knew you were a watchman, so I asked who you were and found out your name is Sam Vimes and that you are the Commander of the City Watch. Then I visited the Watch and asked for you. Captain... Carrot sent me here. And that's it," Vetinari said, nonchalantly. The assassin seemed to be completely at ease with the situation. For a moment Vimes wondered what the boy thought; what had he expected to find as he had traveled into this world/time/whatever? Had Vetinari expected anything at all, and was that his kind of thing to do?  
"That wasn't what I meant," Vimes pointed out, trying not to get impatient. He reminded himself that he had dealt with the boy before and could do it again, if he just stayed patient. That's the trick, Vimes told himself, stay patient and don't do something stupid, like for example, kissing him.  
"I thought so," the other said, with a hint of a smile on his face.  
"So...?" Vimes inquired with forced patience. The trick was not to scream, even though he wanted to, so badly. How did the boy dare to turn up here and mess everything up? The commander had just managed to reconciliate himself with the reality he had returned to, even though it had been hard, and now... Now his patience was tried. He was moving on unsafe ground again.  
"The monks send me here." Vimes had been so deeply in thoughts, that it startled him to hear the boy's voice.

"Why would they do that?" he slowly asked. Screaming at the top of its voice, his "copper instincts" were warning him that trouble lay ahead. It had to scream, because there were so many other thoughts clouding the commander's mind right now, that it would not have been noticed otherwise.  
"Because someone followed you and I'm supposed to bring him back." In Vimes' head his copper instinct gave a sarcastic sneer, as if to say: I knew it! The commander himself fought to keep up the usual stony expression on his face. There was no use in making assumptions before he heard the whole story.  
"Who followed me?" he cautiously asked.  
This time the boy hesitated and when he spoke, he did so, very slowly. "Well..." he began, but trailed off. Nevertheless, Vimes understood.  
"You don't know?!" he asked, caught between anger and surprise. The boy simply nodded. Vimes sighed and cursed under his breath. Why couldn't things stay smoothly, just this once?


	4. Chapter 4

**Two days previous**

Colon and Nobby were on patrol again even though they had a case that needed to be solved. This morning Commander Vimes had told them that Sergeant Angua would be assisting them, or rather, taking over the investigations, while the two of them assisted her. It didn't make much sense for Colon though, since he considered the case closed.  
"You see, I don't get it. That vampire killed the girl, because he got hungry, and now he's dead as well. What else is there to know about it?" he announced, while they bypassed a parked cart.  
"I think the commander wants to know who killed the vampire," Nobby offered carefully.  
"Yeah, but why? He was a killer after all, shouldn't we just call it luck and forget about it?" Colon argued. He would not let himself get talked into believing that these further investigations were not unnecessary effort that easily.  
"But somebody murdered him, and a crime is still a crime, even if the victim is a criminal himself, otherwise we would have little work to do in a city like this. Isn't that what the commander said?" Nobby asked, apparently curious, but even still Fred couldn't help considering the remark to be somehow smartass.  
"Who tells us that this isn't some strange kind of suicide, after all? Maybe he just couldn't stand what he had done and brought justice upon himself."  
"It's a fair question, but how was he supposed to put so much distance between his head and his body?" Nobby argued, all the while seeming completely oblivious to the fact that he was, in a way, outsmarting the sergeant. "I mean, a headless vampire can't walk through the whole city, least of all unnoticed."  
Colon grumbled. He liked it much better when Nobby went along with the things the sergeant said. The corporal wasn't supposed to be the smart one.  
"It could have been some pranksters, who thought it would be funny to mess with the watch."  
"That's very likely," Nobby said enthusiastic, still not noticing the sergeant's discomfort. "Certainly more likely than some conspiracy going on."  
"See, that's what I've been thinking all along," Colon said, victorious.

* * *

"This is quite a challenge," Cheery said miserably, as she rounded the crime scene for the fifth time in about an hour.  
"Tell me about it," Angua sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.  
It wasn't easy to find any useful evidence in a place like this. Hundreds of people made their way through the Gates each day and every single one of them left both visible and invisible evidence. Try as they might, both Angua and Cheery were not able to tell the relevant and the irrelevant traces apart.  
"Is there anything you can say about the way the body got here? I only found wheel tracks from several carts and carriages, but they could have been here before the body was cast-off, and those footprints... it's such a mess, I couldn't even find two matching ones yet!" Cheery said annoyed.  
Angua sniffed the air again, although she already knew the answer to Cheery's question. It was an instinct to try again, even though it was useless.  
"Well, I can smell the vampire and something isn't right with the way he smells, but I'm not sure what it is. There are so many other scents covering it up. It could be the scent of another vampire, although that one could have just been passing by. I mean, there's no law against vampires leaving or entering the city. Or I'm mistaken after all," Angua shrugged, trying to battle down the headache she had developed while trying too hard to find something that possibly wasn't even there.  
"Can you follow the track of the dead vampire?" Cheery asked hopefully.  
"Not really, no," Angua answered harsher than she had originally intended to. Quickly she tried to apologize without actually having to. "It's complicated, because... well, normally a scent is like a long line, that slowly fades, but this one, it's more like... I don't know, a circle maybe. There is no way to tell where it came from, or where it went."  
Cheery's brows furrowed, thinking through the same problem, Angua had been dealing with for some time already. "You think he was dropped here, like something flew by and dropped him?"

"Possibly," Angua admitted, "though I'm not sure what could possibly carry that much weight while flying. Vampires can change into bats, but I doubt that anyone could have enough self-control to organize all the bats that would be needed to carry such a weight."  
They stayed silent for several minutes, while they both tried to detect something they might have missed during their first fourteen tries, Cheery with her eyes, Angua with her nose.  
"What if the murderer was a human? Can you compare the smells of the two crime scenes to each other, so we can tell if someone was at both of them?"  
Angua had to admit that it was a fair question, but she knew the truth about the landscape of smells she was offered. There were limits to a werwolf's abilities as well and she currently found herself at their rim.  
"That's very unlikely, since there are just so many smells in this place. On the other hand, I think there's something else I can do. We already have a suspect, so why not have a look at him? If the girl's father actually killed the vampire I can smell it, even if he has tried to wash it off."  
This was the only thing she could come up with without redefining the word "impossible".

* * *

While Angua and Cheery were inspecting the crime scene, Commander Samuel Vimes had other things to worry about. Well, more precisely one thing, and if one was to be really precise, one person. He was about to have a meeting with the Patrician and there was no doubt the vampire case would be mentioned. The commander knew that he couldn't offer much success concerning the investigations. Sergeant Angua had talked to the dead girl's family, but as far as he knew the father had been with his family and they were all assured that this was actually the truth. The watch was currently at a loss, which wasn't good considering that it was a very sensitive topic they were dealing with.  
Vetinari had been as neutral and calm as ever during their talk so far, but Vimes could tell that he was standing on thin ice.  
"I hope that you are aware of the seriousness of this situation, commander," Vetinari said.  
"Sir," Vimes answered, keeping his stony expression up as a form of protection. Damn, he could never look at Vetinari again without remembering their moment in the monastery. At any rate, it wasn't making things easier.  
"The last thing the city needs right now is a war between species," the patrician went on. Vimes forced himself to concentrate on the matters at hand again. He contemplated using another "sir" as an answer, but the ice was already thin enough and he didn't want to fall into some kind of metaphorical scorpion pit.  
"My best men are already investigating this crime, sir."  
Vetinari raised one eyebrow. "Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs?"  
Battling the urge to shift uncomfortably, Vimes replied, "Sergeant Angua has taken over the investigations; those two are only assisting her."  
"If you think that is the right move, I'm not going to argue," Vetinari said as if he didn't care, but his next words were heavy. "You should know, though, that this is serious issue and that I trust you to solve this case as quickly and inconspicuous as possible."  
Vetinari didn't say more, but Vimes could hear the silent threat that followed his words.  
"Of course, sir," he said, still not taking his eyes off the spot just above Vetinari's head.  
Their talks were never long and they never actually discussed anything. Every important part of their conversations was passed silently between them. This time, though, Vimes didn't need to be reminded of the importance of the situation they were in. The whole city was heading for trouble if those murders weren't solved soon.

* * *

**The previous day**

Angua had visited the baker yesterday, trying to detect a vampire's scent on him, but the man had smelled of nothing but human, grief, flour and baked goods. It must have been days since that man was last near a vampire at all. To make sure she had missed nothing, Angua talked to the other family members as well, but none of them provided any new information.  
There had been one interesting discovery she could make, though. The girl's room had smelled of vampire, even though that smell had already been several days old as well. However, there had been something wrong with the vampire's smell, the last time he had visited. It was the same faint kind of wrongness she had detected at both crime scenes. If only she could tell what it was!  
The dominant smell of vampire made it hard to make out any further details, but after having visited the girl's room Angua knew what the dead vampire was supposed to smell like. He had visited the girl on a regular basis, which was very interesting indeed. Angua wasn't sure what to think about this.  
As Angua arrived at the watch-house this morning, she found a message on her desk. It was short, made up by only a few words. _  
Butchers Guild. Please hurry._


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:  
**hey, well this chapter is a bit late, I was kinda busy during the last few weeks... anyway, Merry Christmas!

* * *

**The previous day**

Vimes was waiting in the back of the Butchers' Guild, having sent Angua a message to meet him there. Admittedly, that had been only about ten minutes ago, but already Vimes was getting impatient. With this new turn of events he felt even more tempted to take over the investigations. Of course, he trusted Angua's abilities to solve this case without his interference, but these investigations were just so very tempting. The case got more and more confusing with each passing day and it would offer the perfect excuse to run through the streets and ask uncomfortable questions again. Oh, how Vimes missed the good old policemanship!  
He only hoped that Angua would arrive soon, or perhaps even Cheery, since he had sent her a message too. Right now he was left without so much as a disturbed constable, whom he had send of to deliver the messages and was far too inexperienced to be useful in any other way, for company. The commander himself was at the moment very busy putting in order a crowd of angry, disturbed, or simply scared butchers who didn't seem to understand that:  
- Yes, he knew that they needed their stables for the goats that had just arrived.  
- No, he couldn't remove the body until Cheery had inspected the crime-scene.  
- Yes, Vetinari would get to know about this; he probably already knew about it, anyway.  
- And last but not least, how the hell was he supposed to know whether goats turned into vampires if they got in contact with a vampire's blood?  
Every time Vimes thought the argument had been settled, someone else approached him with another stupid question or demand, so that he couldn't even start his own investigations. Had he known what he was getting into, he would have demanded the whole watch to be present, not only Angua and Cheery. How could he have known that butchers could be that stubborn, when such a self-centered behavior was much rather to be expected from the assassins?  
Observing the crowd with a cold stare to make sure they wouldn't start another mess, he finally had time to think. He didn't really want to, but his thoughts slowly drifted off, as if they were mocking him. Unwillingly the commander remembered the events of this morning, which had led him into this situation.  
The Commander had been on his way to the watch-house, allowing his feet to take him for a walk on one of his old routes for patrol. As he passed the Assassins Guild he stopped for a tiny moment, slowed down by the memory he had been trying to ignore for weeks now. There were no pictures attached to it, only a warm tingling sensation which would run through his whole body when he remembered that soft touch of lips on lips.  
How strange that he was so haunted by this one kiss. For the gods' sake he was married and got several kisses everyday, kisses from his wife, a loving, caring and strong woman, someone he could spent the rest of his life with.  
Even if Vimes would forget about all the other things that were bugging him about this, the fact that the guy was a younger version of Lord Vetinari, who displayed the emotional quantity of a rock, the fact that Vimes himself was married and that he loved his wife... Why, of all people he could have those unwanted feelings for, did it have to be a guy?  
For about thirty years Vimes was aware of his sexuality. He had had crushes on people, shared nights or even smaller parts of his life with people and now he was married. All those feelings had been about women and never a man, least of all one so unpredictable as Vetinari, whose plans you could only comprehend if he carved them into your forehead and handed you a mirror.  
Of course Vimes knew of guys who lived with other men, like any other couple, and they were generally accepted in a city like Ankh-Morpork, which was so multicultural. What else was to be expected? But those things had always seemed so far away for Vimes, and never would he have expected himself to have similar interests.  
Was he one of them without knowing it? Was he drawn towards other men? If he considered all the men he knew it was very unlikely. He knew of course, that Captain Carrot for example was considered rather handsome and attractive, but Vimes only felt companionship for him and the same went for all the other guys he knew and was not aversed by. So maybe he wasn't so much into guys after all. Maybe this was just about Vetinari. But why?  
Luckily Vimes was spared the burden to find an answer, because suddenly there was movement in the crowd. The goats were drifting apart and the humans with them as Sergeant Angua made her way across the backyard.  
Vimes waited for her to reach him, because he didn't dare to move away from the crime-scene. He feared that there would not be a crime-scene anymore if he turned his back towards the butchers even if only for a moment.  
He sighed. It definitely had been a mistake to stop at the Assassins Guild, even if only for a tiny moment, because otherwise the young Lance-Constable might have missed him and found somebody else who could have taken care of all the agitated butchers.  
"You wouldn't have brought some reinforcements, would you?" he asked, as the sergeant finally stood in front of him.  
"No, sir," Angua answered, sounding only slightly confused. "I was in a hurry. I thought this was urgent."  
Vimes nodded simply. He couldn't blame her for a mistake he had made as well.  
"Of course I don't mind, having made the same mistake, anyways. Hopefully that constable returns soon, so I can send him off again," he murmured, not really talking to Angua but to himself instead.  
Luckily Angua ignored his comment, although he was sure she must have heard it. Instead she switched to another topic. "What happened here? Except for the obvious, of course."  
"I don't know," Vimes answered, guiding his thoughts back towards the case and away from the anger that had been growing within him during the last few hours. "Those people weren't really willing to tell me anything. All I got to know is that the body was already here as the new drove of goats arrived and that no one saw how it got here."  
Angua's brows furrowed. It was easy to tell what she was thinking, because Vimes had thought the same thing as he had first heard of this as well. This seemed like a somewhat smaller version of the murder that had been committed only one day ago.  
"What about the head?" the sergeant finally asked.  
Vimes gave a sarcastic half-smile, because against all odds it had been a lot easier to have two crowded places like the gates as crime-scenes than the inside of the Butcher's Guild.  
"Last time I checked it was in the office of the guild president, but he was very keen to remove it. I kinda hope he has, so that I can arrest him for hindering the Watch."  
At the moment Vimes really wouldn't mind arresting each and every person around, simply because they annoyed him, but he didn't have enough watchmen at hand to do so.

* * *

About an hour later Vimes and Angua, with the help of about half of the watch that was currently on duty, had managed to secure the crime-scene and save all the evidence that could still be found. After having removed the body from the backyard they moved towards the office of the guild's president, where the rest of the dead vampire was located.  
While Cheery inspected the desk, on which the vampire's head lay, Vimes and Angua stood near the door, observing the room but also to keep all those intrusive civilians out, and talked to each other.  
"What do you think, sir?" Angua asked, obviously referring to the more-than-possible connection between the two murders committed against vampires.  
"Well, I think that we might have to reconsider our theory about the first murder," Vimes answered.  
"Could it be some kind of mob?" the sergeant suggested.  
"Possible. This city usually reacts badly to minorities raising attention... but I think it would be a bit early for people to already have overcome their fear of undead people to go and hunt them."  
Vimes would have said more, but there were so many bystanders that he refrained from it. He didn't want to give them something to talk about, for it certainly won't help their investigations if strange rumors spread.  
"We'll talk about this when we are back at the watch-house," he opted for instead.

* * *

**Present**

Another day had passed, but Vimes still had found no answer to the important questions. At the moment all he had was a whole bunch of riddles. A dead girl, two slaughtered vampires, a time-traveling assassin-version of Vetinari... yeah, things were as messy as they could possibly get.  
The last part confused Vimes more than anything else. Although he was not responsible for the other's presence in this time, he feared that in the end he would be held responsible for it. After all, he was the only one who knew what things and which persons he had to keep the young man away from. Still, the commander didn't know how to control the assassin, which made the whole affair rather difficult.  
This time it had been different to meet the young version of Vetinari. The young man had been rather distant during their short talk at the Ramkin's Manor and he had excused himself quite quickly. Vimes still wasn't sure what the reason for this strange behavior had been, but one part of their conversation kept repeating itself in his mind.  
"So you've married Lady Sybil?" the assassin had asked and there had been a barely noticeable trace of something strange in his voice.  
"Yes, what's wrong with that?" Vimes shot back, not knowing what the boy was implying. After all, the assassin had claimed to know that the commander had a family.  
"Oh, nothing," Vetinari had answered neutrally. "You are to marry whoever you want."  
That part of their conversation had been plainly awkward. Even more so because Vimes had felt the need to justify himself, although he did not really know why. Sensing trouble ahead, Vimes willingly switched from one line of thinking to another important matter, for there were enough of them he could chose from.  
With the new information Vetinari had provided him, Vimes had to reconsider the possibility of a mob. If someone with enough charisma, the right words, and the right ideas at the right time had made his way into the this city and maybe paved the way for the current situation... everything could be possible.  
In the end it all came down to the right words.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

Hey, thanks for your encouraging reviews! =)

Oh and don't worry, I'll finish this story, I'm just awfully busy at the moment with preparations for the final exams of my school time. When those are over I'll publish faster.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Only a few hours had passed since he had returned from the Butcher's Guild. Reluctantly, Vimes went up to his office, knowing a roomful of paperwork awaited. He wasn't really in the mood for said paperwork, but if he wanted to see at least a tiny bit of his desk again he had to do it.  
Dutifully Vimes started with the pile labeled "urgent", which grew faster than the others. Since everyone considered their matter extremely important, he had to deal with them immediately. So it came to pass where Vimes picked at the top of the quite-impressive tower which had built up during the last few days.  
Trying to concentrate on the words in front of him, the commander read for some time, but he was distracted by his thoughts which drifted back towards the dead vampires. The whole situation was a riddle and Vimes still couldn't see how the dead girl fit into the whole picture. Usually one dead human wasn't enough to form a mob to hunt "monsters", or at least not enough without some kind of background tension. Furthermore, a mob drew unwanted attention. There was nothing but the dead vampires, no word in the streets, no smashed windows – except for the usual of course - simply nothing!  
Vimes put the paper he was currently reading aside and closed his eyes. Leaning back in his chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was sure that he missed something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.  
"I've heard that another dead vampire was found."

Only slightly startled, Vimes opened his eyes. _Gorgeous! I've gotten used to it!_ he thought, as he spotted Vetinari the Younger sitting on the edge of his desk.  
"Yes, and under the same circumstances as before," the commander answered. For a second he wondered how Vetinari knew so soon, but on the other hand the Patrician had possibly known about it even before the Watch was informed, so Vimes shouldn't be surprised if the younger version was nearly equally well informed.  
They stayed silent while Vimes waited for the assassin to say something, but the young man obviously had other plans. In the end it was the commander who broke the silence.  
"How much do you know about this?" he asked. Chances were high that Vetinari knew a lot more that he should, even if he had arrived only a few hours ago, and it was more than possible that he knew even more than Vimes did.  
"Not much, I have to say. All I gleaned is that it started with the murder of a young woman, the daughter of a baker, and a vampire, who worked for her father was killed soon after. I don't really see how the other dead vampire fits in, though," Vetinari answered.  
Vimes nodded slowly. "So you see a connection between the assassination of the vampires and the dead girl, too?"  
After thinking about the question for a moment, Vetinari finally answered, "Of course. However, instead of being the cause of this, she is merely another victim instead." This answer surprised Vimes, for up until now he had never doubted the girl's death to be the reason why the two vampires had died.  
Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes. "Care to explain?"

Vetinari shifted, and crossed his arms. "No, because I'm not sure yet. Even if I was right, I don't know how to explain or prove it."  
Vimes nodded again and leaned back. He hadn't expected an answer, anyway.  
Silence filled the room again. Some awkward tension still existed between them, causing the two to keep a distance. The commander didn't want to break the silence, and at any rate he didn't know what to say.  
After picking up a random pile of papers from the desk, the assassin finally spoke. Vimes didn't stop him, although he wasn't sure whether the young man should be reading the papers.  
"I take it Carcer has been taken care of?" Vetinari asked, while he leafed through another pile of papers.  
"Carcer is gone," Vimes answered, suspiciously watching the young assassin. He wasn't so sure whether it was a good idea to let him have a look at the paperwork after all. Who knew what he might find there?

"Just like me, I guess," the young man mentioned casually.  
"What makes you think so?" Vimes asked, confused.  
"Well, I've made mighty enemies quite early in my life, and nobody can be watchful all the time," Vetinari retorted and the commander could see the point there. Not many people managed to do so, but he had half expected the assassin to consider himself one of them.  
"If you think so," Vimes mumbled, not really wanting the other to hear it. Luckily Vetinari wasn't paying attention to him at the moment. The young man stood frozen with read papers in his left hand and unread papers in his right. Only the quick but barely noticeable flicker of his eyes indicated that he was merely concentrating.  
"Found something?" Vimes asked. He already looked at those reports and found nothing that would help him in this case.  
Vetinari didn't answer, though. Instead he said, "I've got to go."  
And before Vimes could answer the assassin was gone. The commander cursed under his breath, but didn't react otherwise. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have known what he should do. There was no way he could follow Vetinari, for he didn't even know where or how the young man had gone.  
Still, there was one thing he could do. Vetinari had left the paper, which he had read before he had left, behind and now Vimes picked it up, trying to figure out what the assassin had found there. To his surprise he saw, that it was no report or official paper, but a note written by the commander himself. In it, he tried to sum everything he already knew about the case.  
Whatever Vetinari had seen on that paper, Vimes couldn't find it. There was nothing he did not already know and he saw no sudden epiphany in his own handwriting.

* * *

Nearly two hours passed since Vetinari left Vimes' office, but the assassin hadn't returned. Bereft of any other distractions, Vimes focused on his paperwork again. Well he tried to, but he simply couldn't concentrate. Finally giving up, the commander put the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. There were enough other things to take care of, anyway. For a moment Vimes debated on getting up and searching for Vetinari, just in case the young man got into trouble, but he decided otherwise. Even if he wanted to, where would he go to find the young assassin?  
Instead, Vimes called for Angua and Captain Carrot to join him in his office. Luckily they were both on duty at the moment. Carrot was just about to start his shift, while Angua was about to end hers.  
"I want the two of you to take over the investigations concerning the assassination of the vampires," the commander told them bluntly. Angua nodded simply, but Carrot's brows furrowed.  
"I thought Fred and Nobby were already working on this case?" the young policeman asked.  
"That's true, but I fear that this is getting a bit too big for them. In this case I need my best people and Fred and Nobby were always supposed to be on the streets, anyway."  
This seemed to settle things. Vimes was about to send the two watchmen on their way, but Angua's expression made him decide differently.  
"Sir, I have spoken to some vampires who are in regular contact with humans," she started, before he could even ask. "They told me, they already had minor problems with agitated people blaming them for what has happened to the girl."  
Vimes' brows furrowed, although he had expected something like that to happen. There were always people who set up others who were different as the scapegoat. "Something I should worry about?"  
"I don't think so, sir," Angua answered. "There have always been people who are not fond of the undead presence in this city, but it has never caused real problems."  
"I see. Don't you think it's strange that everything is so calm? I mean, if there was a mob, then there would be hell out there. For the gods' sake, a mob doesn't mysteriously vanish to reappear every evening at 8 o'clock!"  
"Sir, I don't think the people in this city would go out and hunt down vampires. They surely know that the vampires are no threat," Carrot interjected, displaying his usual unshakeable will to believe in the people's common sense.

Even if Vimes couldn't agree with Carrot's hypothesis about common sense, he nodded. The young man was right. The people wouldn't go out and hunt vampires, or at least not without their pitchforks. If there was a mob, there would be evidence, and at the least Captain Carrot would have heard about it.  
But if it was no mob responsible, what was?


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Another day had passed and Vimes had neither seen Vetinari again, nor talked to Angua and Carrot. The later wasn't all that surprising, since he didn't expect them to solve the case in less that twenty-four hours. It was the assassin's absence that troubled him. It was only worry that the young man might have run into trouble, or certain people he should never meet in this time-line, such as other assassins or... No, Vimes didn't even want to think of THAT possibility. It would be far too troublesome and most likely extremely... unpleasant for himself. Just thinking about it made him shudder.

Needless to say, Vimes was only worried that the younger version of Vetinari got into or caused trouble... he certainly did not miss him. He had most certainly NOT missed him after returning from the past, and he did NOT miss him right now. After all, Vimes was a married man! He had to keep that in mind. The very fact that he had to keep telling himself this, though, worried him. He would feel much safer if this was a fact carved in stone and therefore couldn't be questioned, but if it was he wouldn't have to constantly remind himself.

Interrupting Vimes' thoughts was a knock at the door, and Sergeant Angua entered his office. The commander was quite pleased by the offered distraction, but tried not to let it show too much, it would only raise suspicion.

They greeted each other politely before Vimes inquired for the reason of her visit.

"I've spoken to some of the vampires again, as I thought they were the most likely to know something," Angua explained her newest investigations.

„Did they provide any new information?" Vimes asked, gladly focusing on the matter at hand instead of his messed up thoughts.

"Well... not as such," the sergeant admitted. „They all claimed to know nothing about the murders. Some even claimed to not know the victims, although I know that they were acquainted. Something strange is going on amongst the vampires."

Vimes's brows furrowed in displeasure. Well, wasn't that just dandy? He could already see himself tumbling head first into a new kind of political disaster. Why was it always politics?

"Do you know what it is?"

Angua shook her head slightly, but it was only to be expected. After all, werewolves and vampires didn't get along very well. It was no surprise that they had not been willing to share much information with her.

"Not quite. They were all very secretive about their matters. But I found out that they seem to have divided into two main groups. One is still very strict about the Black Ribbon, but the other..." she took a moment to consider her next words. "Well, the Ribbon isn't very welcome in some parts of the underground society anymore."

Damn! This could get worse than the commander had imagined and he had imagined a lot.

"They're drinking human blood again?" Vimes asked, thoroughly alarmed. This could shape up to be even worse than the Klatchian incident, even worse than the whole orc situation...

"No," Angua hurried to correct. „It's quite strange really. They seem to have no interest in harming humans, but they're afraid to show that at the same time. It's like the wind has changed and they try to keep their heads down so that whatever comes with it doesn't take offense."

How strange. Vimes had never considered vampires to be the sort of people who could be so easily startled. What could scare a vampire - no a whole bunch of vampires?

"Any idea what might have caused this change?" he asked slowly, hoping that the sergeant could provide an answer.

Shaking her head again, Angua answered, "As I've said, they're very secretive about it."

Okay, so no luck on that part, but maybe they could figure it out on their own...

"Do you know how long this has been going on?" the commander inquired, knowing that this was a rather important question. It could even turn out to be one of those pieces of the puzzle that gave you a vague idea of what the picture was supposed to look like.

"Less than a week, I guess," Angua made a give-or-take gesture with her right hand. "One might say it has started shortly after the girl was killed."

Vimes nodded slowly. He had a feeling of upcoming trouble. This could not be a good sign, not at all. Still, it was a puzzle piece and not an unimportant one. "Thank you, sergeant."

Angua got the hint and attempted to exit the office, but before she could leave, Vimes called her back. Another thing had occurred to him and he wanted to make sure that he was not missing out on something. He was dealing with vampires here, so he couldn't be too careful.

"Oh, and Angua?"

"Yes sir?" the sergeant turned around once more.

"What about the Black Ribbon? How many of them have changed sides?" This was important, was it not? Those were the vampires the public saw the most of, so whatever was their idea of a way of life would be what the public would come to associate with all vampires.

„Some of the newer or weaker members have, but the main circle of them doesn't seem to be tempted. Although, they seemed rather worried lately," Angua answered. Vimes frowned, dismissing her, and was left to stew with his own sneaking suspicions of what was yet to come.

* * *

Several hours later, Vimes was heading home. It was late afternoon, but there was still plenty of time before he had to read to young Sam. Truth be told, he was looking forward to a good night full of sleep. Lately he had not slept as much as his body apparently needed. Staying up all night and day, only sleeping for an hour or so, when his head dropped onto the desk, or he found a hidden place to stand and slumber, had once been easier. It might be the mix of the more comfortable life he led by now and the passing of time. The commander wasn't old as such, yet, but he had seen younger days, when running through the whole city had been little more than morning sports and not a reason to feel like he was drowning.

As Vimes made his way down _King's Way_ something caught his eye. There was a movement in the corner of his eye. It wasn't all that surprising, because all around him people were passing by, for the city was always busy and people and carts were making their way up or down the road, but his copper instinct immediately told him that something was not right.

The commander slowed this pace down a bit, but didn't dare to stop completely so that he wouldn't raise unwanted attention. He turned his head slightly to have a better look in the right direction, but saw nothing. It could be Vetinari, he thought. There were not that much persons who could follow him around without being noticed and since he didn't know where the young assassin currently was, it was a possibility.

Ignoring the slight discomfort in the back of his mind, Vimes continued onwards. Still he hadn't gotten very far, before he had to stop again. The uncomfortable feeling had once more increased and since he wasn't good at ignoring his senses when they were telling him he was in danger, he had another look around.

This time he actually spotted something. There was another movement in the back of the crowd that made its way down the road. For a brief moment, Vimes saw someone disappear into another patch of shadows created by the low eaves and market stalls along the way. The thing that struck him most was the rather old fashioned cloak that the person had wrapped around themselves, almost as if to protect themselves from cold weather. It was a sunny day, though, and the temperatures were far too high for anyone to feel cold.

Seeing nobody emerge the shadows again, Vimes started to feel the weight of someone's gaze rest upon him. He had been noticed. Whoever was following him was now aware of his suspicion. Great, just great!

For a second, Vimes considered changing his route in order to distract his tail from his original destination. Hopefully he'd be able to lose the unknown stalker before he got home, but the commander was quite aware of the fact that almost the whole city knew who he was and where he lived. There was little point in coming up with a scheme to lose his pursuer.

* * *

When Vimes returned home, he did so alone. The tail was nowhere to be seen and hadn't been for several minutes now. The commander was almost inclined to believe that he had been imagining things, but his copper's instinct was seldom wrong.

Maybe the vampires were keeping an eye on him, now that something was going on amongst them and he had started investigations on the matter. It could be the usual attempt to find out what he was up to and how much of the stuff he wasn't supposed to know about he had already found out; but somehow it hadn't felt like it at all. This time it had seemed more real, like a primeval instinct had been reactivated. It had almost felt like he was a rabbit in the open and the fox was watching him. A feeling that Vimes had not felt for decades. After all he was the predator in this city!

Once again Vimes was distracted from his thoughts by the feeling of another presence in the room. This time it was something familiar and not at all threatening. The commander's subconscious was already used to this silent approach. Vetinari.

"Hello, Commander Vimes," the assassin greeted, as he materialized in the armchair next to Vimes. He was wearing the same dark clothes he had worn as he first arrived in this time-line and although they were not at all questionable, something about them screamed „assassin". If the young man was to stay here any longer than a couple of days, that had to be changed. Vimes promised himself to approach that problem later.

"You might as well call me Sam, I don't suppose we have much use for formalities at this point," Vimes said, feeling a bit unsure. They had kissed, danced around each other and well, they didn't seem to get rid of each other, so why not consider the use of first names? Come to think of it, Vimes disliked the idea of soon being addressed as "Sir Samuel" by the young man. It seemed rather scary to have him repeat the exact same words his older version used. The patrician had never addressed him as "Sam" though, so it would be safe to offer this to the younger version.

"As you wish," came the unbidden reply. After a short moment of silence, he spoke again. "Then you may as well call me 'Hav'."

"Hav?" Vimes asked, surprised. Never would he have thought that Vetinari would use a short form of his name. Maybe...? "Is that your nickname at school?"

To Vimes' surprise Veti... Hav chuckled, obviously amused by the thought.

„Not at all. I do have a 'nickname' at school, but it's not Hav. I just thought a short form would be in order, don't you think so, 'Samuel'?"

"...Of course." Well, it made a lot more sense, but still... Ve... Hav had a nickname? He had never struck the commander as someone who had a lot of friends at school, or someone who would go by a nickname.

"Hav... I like the sound of that," he mused. Still all he could really think was _Vetinari had a nickname?_ and more importantly _what is his nickname?_

„Where's the eye-patch?" Hav suddenly asked, catching Vimes completely off guard.

"Pardon?"

"The eye-patch." the assassin repeated. "You had one as I last saw you with the monks."

"Oh, it turned out to be less serious than I thought," Vimes answered casually, but unknowingly traced the scar around his eye nevertheless. It had split his eyebrow apart, but fortunately his eye had not been damaged, so there was little he could complain about.

„I like you better without the eye-patch," Hav pointed out. "This way it's shown how lucky you are."

Confused the commander noticed, that Vetinari had inched a bit closer, almost leaning over the closer armrest of the chair. Slowly the assassin reached out and softly touched the scar on Vimes' eyebrow, carefully pushing Sam's own hand away. It felt surprisingly good. Hav's fingers were cold, but gentle and it send a tingling sensation down Vimes' spine.

"Lucky?" the commander asked to distract himself and to cover the blush that threatened to rise in his face. He liked to tell himself later that he hadn't sounded breathless at all.

„There are not many people who achieve so much, while starting of with next to nothing," Hav answered, withdrew his hand so that Vimes could look at him. The commander felt disappointment rise within him, as the contact broke, but said nothing. All he did was watch the young man, while considering how much of his "luck" was actually Vetinari's doing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Meanwhile, Angua and Carrot had spent the afternoon on the street talking to the various people who had known Lisa, the girl whose death had started everything. They had decided to start at the beginning again, since it seemed to be the most likely place to untangle this complicated matter. It would be a huge step into the right direction if they could figure out how the girl fit into the picture. Neither of the two believed that she was a random victim, especially since she had been in close contact to the first deceased vampire.

The father had given them the names of two other girls his daughter had been friends with. Both of them lived only a few houses down the road and had known the baker's daughter for almost all of their life. So Angua and Carrot had gathered the girls and had sat down with them in a nearby cafe.

The girls seemed still very upset over the death of their friend; both had tears in their eyes as they reminisced of Lisa. They had seen her the day before she died, and apparently nothing had been wrong with her. She had seemed happy.

The most important fact that Angua and Carrot learned though, was that Lisa had not only known Jonathan because of her father's business, but had been in a relationship with him. The girls had been reluctant to speak about it at first, but nevertheless they told the two watchmen a lot once it had been mentioned.

"We were a bit jealous at first, you know," the younger girl said. "I mean he's always been... he was never rude or loud... he was always so gentle."

Angua gave the girl a "I know what that's like"-look, but said nothing. She didn't need to do that, because the other girl was already picking up where her friend had left off.

"Lisa's father is very strict about that kind of stuff, so he couldn't find out about them. You see, he grew up believing that vampires were monsters. They all did, and that's why they don't understand. He wasn't a monster, he was a great guy. Jonathan has only started working in the bakery to be close to her. It was just sooo cute."

"Did Lisa's father ever find out about the two of them?" Carrot asked after a moment. Neither he nor Angua had expected something like this. Hearing these girls talk about such a relationship made it sound like it was nothing but an ordinary thing. Apparently the younger generations in the city had already adjusted to these new circumstances far better than it was to be expected.

The girls gave each other a questioning look, but shook their heads. "We don't think so. She never mentioned it."

* * *

Later that day Vimes met Sybil in the hall as she came back from the dragon stable in the garden. He had just finished reading to young Sam, reciting the story more through memorization than actually reading it. (Where is my cow?) would most likely be stuck in his memory forever, though he didn't mind because the image of his son's happy face and the sound of his laughter would always be associated with it.

"Sybil?" He began, as they made their way up the stairs.

"Yes, Sam?" she answered, already undoing the first button of the thick cloak she wore when she fed the dragons.

"May I ask you something?" Vimes continued.

"Of course, you don't have to ask permission!" Sybil laughed slightly.

Vimes simply shrugged. Normally he wouldn't have asked permission, but this time he felt unsure whether he should actually voice his question. Still she was the only person he could get this certain piece of information from, so if he wanted to know he had to ask her.

"Do you know whether Vetinari ever had a nickname while he was training to be an assassin?"

Sybil frowned at this. Until now her husband had never shown any interest in the patrician's personal matters, although she had tried to encourage him to befriend the other man. Nevertheless she answered cheerfully, 'As a matter of fact, yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well... erm..." Vimes cleared his throat almost nervously, "... just curious, I guess."

Touching his cheek lightly, Sybil smiled warmly at her husband. "Don't worry, I think it's good if you two get to know each other better. You guys could become good friends if you only got to know each other better. He's human, after all, and he's my friend too," she said enthusiastically.

Vimes ignored the urge to set things straight, for he couldn't see a single scenario in which he and the patrician would be "good friends". However, he could hardly explain the messed up reality to her either.

"His nickname was..." Sybil hesitated for a moment, fidgeting a bit. "...well, only bothersome boys like Downey called him that, really... I'm not even supposed to know about it, you know, it's nothing to be uttered in front of a lady," she seemed rather smug about knowing anyways. Oh, she was a gorgeous woman, wasn't she!

"They called him something that was not socially acceptable?" Vimes asked, suppressing a grin. Oh, this was fantastic! Even better than he had thought it'd be. "What was it?"

„Oh, you know, with his family name and all..."

Well, Vimes could think of a few unkind names the kids on the streets could have come up with, should they ever have found out what "veterinary" meant. But Vetinari had not been raised on the streets and with a personality like his, only a complete nutcase would have come up with the idea of calling him names... Oh, well maybe the thought wasn't so unlikely after all.

"What did they call him?" he asked again, because he surely wouldn't want to introduce his wife to all the things he and his playground friends would have come up with.

"They called him... 'Dog-botherer'."

Vimes couldn't help himself, he laughed at this. He could have come up with a lot of things that were worse, but given that the upper class only got in contact with dogs and horses, it made sense. The kids in Vimes' childhood would have known about the things a cattle doctor could do to livestock. It had always been quite the show when they had gotten the rare chance to spy on one.

"You better not use that name," Sybil warned only partly playful.

"Never," Vimes answered quickly. (Not on the patrician at least), he thought.

* * *

As Angua and Carrot arrived at the watch house the next morning, they were greeted with another unpleasant surprise. They had just entered the building when a young lance-constable handed them a message from Cheery, who had been on night shift yesterday. The note gave only the address of – as Carrot pointed out – a residence in the slightly less dirty parts of the city, where the newly richer members of the society lived.

Since Carrot apparently knew the way to every place in Ankh Morpork, Angua let him lead the way. Therefore it took them only a few minutes to reach their destination.

As they arrived, Cheery was already waiting for them inside the building. She was still working in one of the upper rooms, which offered a familiar sight. Once again they found themselves in a young woman's bedroom, with the room's owner lying on top of the covers of her bed.

"It happened again," Cheery simply said.

Angua nodded silently. She didn't need to concentrate to smell vampire in the air, although it was the same faint one she had detected in Lisa's room. What she had first believed to be a strange addition to Jonathan's scent, now turned out to be the smell of a different entity, another vampire like she had never smelled before, not even back in Uberwald.

Carrot gave her a look, noticing that she had become rather quiet.

"What do you think?" he finally asked, trusting her intuition.

"I think... I've found a corner of the puzzle, as the commander would say."


End file.
